A little tired, a lot frazzled

I love my daughter, but some days, I sit back and wonder how and why she comes up with some of the sarcastic statements she spews and mischievous stunts she pulls.

On those days I am pondering her behavior, she is usually sitting in time out and I am willing myself not to rip my hair out.

She has had a cough for a couple of weeks and over the weekend developed a gastrointestinal disturbance that resembled pea soup.

I decided a doctor’s visit was in order.

While waiting to be called in, she started yelling “Mom. I am sick of waiting. When are they going to call our name?”

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I tried to tell her to be patient and that they squeezed us in on short notice and we have to wait our turn.

That kept her calm for a little bit. That is until we were called back to the smaller waiting room, where she became just as impatient.

“Mom, where is the doctor?” she bellowed several times, along with trying to get into anything and everything she could. Our doctor’s office isn’t large and doesn’t have sound proof walls, which added to my embarrassment to say the least.

Threats of time outs and being grounded from her favorite toys meant nothing to her. She continued on her toddler tirade.

This wasn’t the worst part of the day, by far.

After we were done, I had to drop off a prescription for her at the local pharmacy inside a local grocery store.

I kept a tight hold on her while we stood in line, a hold that she had no problem squirming out of. She made a beeline for the blood pressure machine and started pushing all of the buttons she could.

More threats of throwing toys away ensued, but this day she had some sort of supernatural kiddie shield that was impervious to my ultimatums.

I made the futile attempt at picking up a few items while waiting for her prescription to be filled.

She tore through the aisles ripping items off of the shelves and shoving some of them into her jacket. The quicker I replaced them, the quicker she grabbed them.

I finally resorted to the one thing that usually gets her to stop in her tracks.

First, middle and last name along with counting down from the number five. Usually I don’t get to four and she stops whatever tomfoolery she is up to.